


Butterfly Kisses

by Selah



Series: Long Time Coming [5]
Category: Alice Nine, Jrock, Kagrra, MELLO (Band), Rentrer en Soi, SuG (Band), the GazettE
Genre: Dom/sub, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, implied BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-16 13:45:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4627515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selah/pseuds/Selah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Strange, the road his life had taken to lead him to this point. Sometimes a wrong turn isn't so wrong in the end. Or maybe it's just a stop on the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I. Takeru (Slow Like Honey)

**Author's Note:**

> It was just supposed to be one thing...then it turned into a collection of things. Citing all the bands and pairings up front so I can't forget to add them later? This is set in the middle(ish) of Judith I, so mid-2009. Yes, I know, that's after RES disbanded, if only just, but for the sake of tagging....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was just coffee, nothing more.

Isshi toyed with his coffee cup and watched the café door, not entirely sure what he was expecting. IV had set this up, insisting that he needed to get out and be social with someone new, take advantage of the break with Reno. For his part, Isshi would have been quite content to stay home and focus on his work, but his kouhai had whined and begged and pleaded until he had agreed just to get the younger man to shut up about it. It was just coffee, couldn't really go wrong with just coffee, right?

Of course that was easier said than done. Another silent sigh, memories of waiting for another coffee date, years ago now. Those two had been so shy back then, perhaps even a little bit awed by him? Amonn had been, certainly, all nervous and shy and star-struck, with a reserved and wary Sato at his side. Not that he had blamed Sato for his wariness - being singled out at a meet and greet could do that to a person. 

Those two had been something special, they had touched him so deeply ... and then they had disappeared without warning, moving out of his house while Kagrra had been out on tour. He had tried contacting them so many times, always to no response. And then this mess with Reno had happened and now....

“Maa, such a heavy face, senpai....”

Isshi blinked and silently watched as one of his kouhai, Takeru, settled himself in the chair across from him. Not that he had actually known who to expect, but certainly this one hadn't been on his mental list. What had IV said to Takeru to get him to agree to this, he wondered. As far as he knew, his reputation was that of the cranky old man of PSC, a little white lie perpetuated mostly by certain middle kouhai like Miyavi and Ruki. The unofficial Tousan of their corner of the visual kei scene, although at the rate things were going, he wasn't going to be able to claim Kagrra was off in their own isolated corner of the scene for much longer. Not that such claims had ever been particularly _true_ , but that wasn't the point. 

“Ah, senpai looks disappointed, maybe I should go,” Takeru mumbled, halfway to standing even as the words left his mouth. Isshi would never hear the end of it if he let Takeru slip away so easily, breaking character to reach across the table and catch the man's wrist.

“Not disappointed, just surprised,” he corrected softly, offering his kouhai a small smile. “And caught lost in thought, I'm afraid. Stay, have a cup of coffee with me at least, or I'll never hear the end of it.”

“I'm sure senpai exaggerates,” Takeru demurred as he settled back into his chair. “Ibbie's way too scared of you for anything like that.”

“Scared of me? I find that hard to believe, the way he chatters at my IM even when I'm not sitting there to respond to him right that second.”

“Ah, but that's different,” the blond countered with a playful grin, pausing to order a cup of coffee when the waitress came to their table again. “That's text messaging, he's not actually in front of you at the time. And if he says something idiotic, the worst you can do is grumble at him, you can't actually reach through the internet and throttle him.”

Isshi could only laugh at that. How many times had one of his new crop of young kouhai said something to him in text that had made him, however briefly, want to reach through the computer and shake some sense into their fluffy little young heads? The foolishnesses of youth.

“Ah, see! Senpai knows! All the kouhai were already scared of you and then Ruki-senpai started telling grand stories about how you used to beat him regularly when he was a newbie on the label for being ridiculous and now Shin-kun is afraid to even _look_ at you!”

“... clearly I'm going to have to have another talk with Ruki-kun then,” Isshi said between sips of coffee. One thing to tease the new kouhai, but if he was going so far as to actually scare the young ones away from him completely, that was too much.

“You didn't hear about it from me!” Takeru said, hands waving about as if he could disavow responsibility so easily. Isshi quirked an eyebrow at that and silently renewed his vow to talk to Ruki and soon.

“ ... so other than Ru-kun's obvious hazing, how are things going for you and SuG?”

The invitation to talk about his own band worked much as Isshi had expected - what vocalist could resist the temptation to grab attention and brag about his own band for a bit? Not that anything Takeru was telling him was really any sort of surprise - he had been watching SuG since they had first been signed to the new indies subdivision. But there was something about the animated way he spoke that was ... refreshing. And that, perhaps, made it easy to linger over their coffee until the staff started giving them silent but pointed looks. They were taking up valuable space and offering little in return, it was time they moved on to somewhere else to continue their chat.

“I think the staff here is getting annoyed with us,” he said with a light chuckle, flashing a charming smile at the hostess that only slightly mollified her. “Maybe we should continue chatting somewhere else? It's a lovely day, there's a nice park not too far from here....”

“A park, hmm?” Takeru asked, eyes alight with mirth. “Ah, is senpai afraid of taking me to a dirty apartment~?”

“Actually, I bought a house shortly after I moved to Tokyo,” Isshi said, a little surprised that this piece of information wasn't already common knowledge among his new kouhai, especially since he knew IV also knew about the house. “But it's a bit of a drive from here.”

“Wait, that stuff was true??” Takeru said, obvious shock and perhaps even a touch of awe appearing on his face. “I figured they were just making shit up! I mean Reno-kun kept calling it a mansion, so of course no one believed him! I mean, I know you're a senpai and all and you've been doing this a lot longer than any of us, but still. The stuff he was saying was just....”

“I think 'estate' would be more appropriate,” he replied with a small smile, taking their ticket and heading for the counter. And smiling even more at the way he could hear Takeru scrambling to follow him. 

“But how... I mean, I didn't think ... well, not that ... I mean, I guess ... er, not that it's really any of my business or that you have to tell me anything, just....”

“It was as much a matter of fortunate timing as anything else,” Isshi said with a negligent shrug, as if it were nothing. Which was close enough to the truth. The land history had been somewhat difficult to piece together and flavored with more than a few stories of a bloody history and sightings of all manner of ghostly residents. Meaning the previous owner had been highly motivated to sell, easily talked into accepting far less than the property had been worth even in its less than pristine state, just to be able to wash his hands of it and move on to other interests. 

“Does it really matter so much?” he asked as they walked down the street. 

“What? Oh, well, no, I guess not,” Takeru said with a shrug. “I just haven't ever known someone who owned a mansion before. Er, well, I mean, you know what I mean, ne?”

“It was a significant investment, but one we all agreed was worth the expense.”

“We?”

“At one point, all of Kagrra lived together to save on bills,” Isshi explained, guiding them towards a nearby park. “And I'd had to promise Akki's mother on my honor that I'd look after her precious baby. But to answer the question you've been trying not to ask, Kagrra has never been my only source of income, I've just kept my other ventures quiet up to now. Would probably still be keeping them quiet, but someone thought putting my public name on some of my writing would be a good idea, so....”

Isshi trailed off with a shrug, not really willing to discuss it any further than that. He kept his private life just that for a reason, for several reasons, really, and Takeru wasn't entitled to know anything about it, not even as his kouhai. And that was all that lay between them, a senpai-kouhai relationship and a couple cups of coffee. And that was how Isshi intended for it to remain. He and Reno were, after all, only taking a break to gain some perspective, to sort out what they wanted from their relationship. And Isshi definitely wasn't looking for anything more than good conversation from the blond. An intellectual distraction, nothing more.

~*~*~

Takeru's back crashed against the wall hard, but he didn't care, his fingers sinking into black and blond strands as he pulled his senpai closer. He needed this, burned for it. The touch of a strong Dominant, of someone more than capable of putting him in his place and keeping him there. 

“Please,” he whimpered, rocking his hips up against the older man's body. “Fuck, please, senpai.”

And then cold water splashed him in the face and Takeru was jerking up out of his chair, sputtering and swiping at his face with both hands. 

“Fucking hell! What the fuck, man?!?”

“You were making gross sex noises,” Yuji said, wrinkling his nose. “ _Someone_ had to snap you out of it.”

“I was not!” Takeru protested reflexively. “... was I?” He dropped the hem of his shirt as he glanced around the room, startled to see all four of his bandmates were back. That meant he'd slept through lunch and Masato was probably going to give him hell for that. Though if he was lucky, it would also come with a bento.

“I don't even want to know which senpai you were fantasizing about this time,” Yuji said with an obvious shudder. “You _do_ know most of them are straight, right? And I hear some of them are even married. With kids, even.”

“We are _not_ getting into this discussion again,” Masato announced with a huff. “You napped through lunch again, didn't you, Buru? What the hell am I supposed to do with you?”

“Sorry, Maatan,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. This was the third time in the last two weeks and he could practically see the lecture starting to form in Masato's eyes. 

“You've got twenty minutes to grab a combini bento and bring it back here,” his bandleader muttered. “I think we can manage to practice without you for that long.”

“Aye-aye, Captain!” he said, tossing off a crisp salute and forcing a cheeky grin he didn't entirely feel. As much as a part of him wanted more than anything to get to know Isshi better, he was too terrified of the man to actually try it. Even with everything his senpai had said on their coffee date, it wasn't so easy to just forget and ignore everything Ruki had said before that. To be honest, he hadn't really believed the older vocalist's claims to have been beaten by Isshi, the idea was just too ridiculous, even knowing Isshi was a Dominant. But there was still something mysterious and intimidating about the man, even after having the experience of getting to know him in a more private setting. Takeru might be able to nerve himself up enough to chat up his senpai over text messages and IM, but that was his limit, he knew it. Maybe that made him a chickenshit, but... it was the way things were.


	2. II. Ruki (Strong Like Music)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In hindsight, the only surprise should have been that he hadn't been caught months ago.

As if the sudden jerk into a room he didn't get a chance to see hadn't already had him enough off balance, being shoved face first into a wall certainly finished the job. Ruki didn't even have the breath left to scream, not that screaming would have been his first choice anyway. 

“Did you really think you could go around saying such ridiculous things and I wouldn't hear of it?”

The panic that had flared white hot in those first seconds abruptly melted out of him as he registered Isshi's voice. That hard edge meant he was still very much in trouble, but the fear of some unknown assailant killing him dissipated, leaving him with the scramble to think what it was he had said to so upset his senpai. And coming up distressingly blank. There had to have been something, but nothing was coming to mind. Nothing that could account for this level of upset in his senpai, at any rate.

“Is this how you show your respect for me, by scaring the new kouhai into thinking I'm some demonic beast to be feared at all costs?”

Oh. Oh that. 

“They weren't supposed to take me _seriously_ ,” he protested weakly, knowing those few words weren't going to be good enough. The snort behind him confirmed it and then he was being spun around, a hand going to his throat to keep him pinned to the wall. Isshi was both terrifying and beautiful, the way his anger hung around him in a red aura that highlighted strong features that Ruki had always felt attracted to and yet just beyond his reach. But maybe this could be his one chance? He averted his eyes, careful in his keigo as he spoke. If he blew this one shot, he would never forgive himself.

“Forgive me, Issama,” he murmured respectfully. “It was only intended to be a joke, one that obviously went too far. It was never my intention to cause undue fear in our kouhai. Please, tell me how I may earn your forgiveness for my thoughtlessness?”

Another snort, but the hand at his throat withdrew. Ruki didn't hesitate, falling to his knees the moment he was released with his head bowed and his hands tucked neatly behind his back. He had only rumor and his own intuition to support the notion of Isshi as a bisexual Dominant, if he was wrong.... The silence between them grew heavy, weighted with he wasn't sure what, and Ruki's breath caught in his throat. If he was wrong, this could ruin things completely. On the other hand, if he was right about his senpai's tendencies....

“What ... what did you have in mind?” Isshi asked, though his voice came out ... strange. Rough. Ruki risked a glance up at his senpai. That look ... he wondered if Isshi was even still seeing him or if there was someone else he was seeing at that moment. Even with all the years that they had been working together, Ruki couldn't say he knew Isshi as well as he could or should. Certainly, the older man was by far his favorite and possibly most treasured senpai, but despite his own wishes and desires, their relationship had never gone beyond senpai and kouhai. Which meant, in Ruki's opinion, that it was well past time he did something to change that.

“I wouldn't presume to tell Issama how to punish someone such as myself,” he murmured, hoping he wasn't laying it on too thick. Another snort, though at least this one sounded somewhat amused, and then fingers drifted into his hair. 

“I don't recall you ever being this ... deferential in the past,” his senpai replied quietly, fingers still stroking through his hair in a gentle petting that was nearly a caress. It still wasn't confirmation, there was still room for him to be wrong about all of this, to be misreading cues, but he also couldn't deny the flare of hope at those quiet words, that soothing touch. He ever so slightly nuzzled into Isshi's hand but otherwise kept his head bowed submissively, choosing his words with extra care.

“It ... hadn't seemed appropriate,” he murmured. A beat and then he decided to go for broke: “Please, sir, how may I serve?”

“Ruki-kun....”

Ruki glanced up just in time to see something cold and hard slam down over Isshi's face. Had he been wrong after all? Fuck. Now he'd done it, fucked up everything.

“Get up,” Isshi said sharply, but there was something almost brittle about his tone. “You want to make things right? You can start by explaining to each of the kouhai how very wrong you were, lying to them so casually like that. Starting with ViViD's Shin-kun.”

“Yes, senpai,” he mumbled, keeping his eyes on the floor even as he silently kicked himself for misjudging things so badly. Kai was going to kill him for this.

“Dinner's at seven. Don't be late.”

His head jerked up at that, but Isshi was already leaving the room. Maybe he hadn't completely ruined things between them after all? He grasped onto that faint hope with both fists, determined to do things right going forward. And even more determined to get to Isshi's house early for that dinner. But first he had some apologies to make.

~*~*~

Isshi trailed fingers over bare skin and sighed to himself. He should have sent Ruki home hours ago. He most certainly should _not_ have let things get so completely out of hand. 

“Is this where you tell me we need to talk about what just happened and you explain how it was all a mistake?” Ruki asked softly, startling Isshi.

“Ruki-kun....”

“If it never happens again, I'm okay with it,” the younger vocalist said, sitting himself up next to him. “I don't think I could be what senpai needs, not for more than something like this, anyway.”

“You enjoy being a mouthy brat too much,” Isshi agreed with a soft chuckle. “I really would end up beating you almost as much as you claimed.”

“I did try to make things right with Shin-kun, but I'm not sure it worked,” Ruki admitted softly. “If I'd known they were going to take me so seriously, I swear, I never would have let things go so far.”

“I believe you,” he replied quietly, getting up from the bed and slipping on a yukata.

“There's already someone else in senpai's heart,” Ruki said, surprising him with how quickly the younger man was at his side again. 

“Yes ... and no,” Isshi said quietly, not entirely sure he really wanted to discuss it. Before tonight, their relationship had strictly been on a professional level. And while that was obviously no longer the case, one scene was not enough for Isshi to feel comfortable confiding in the younger man. Not yet, at any rate.

“It's all right, senpai,” the younger man said softly, arms circling his waist as he rested his head against his back. “You don't owe me any explanations. I hope you can find your forever after soon. And until you do, if you need me for anything, anything at all....”

Isshi covered the arms around him with his own, returning the embrace as best as their current positions allowed. Ruki wasn't meant for keeping, not by him at least; he could give Ruki the things he needed, be the sort of sadistic Dom Ruki needed in scene, but only for so long. And then there was the matter of the state of his own heart, the lingering flames for his lost lovers and the uncertainty of his own feelings for Reno. He wasn't ready to completely give up on Reno, not yet anyway. Moreover, his cherry would be hurt if he tried to arrange outside play dates. He was just going to have to be patient while Reno learned to be the sort of partner Isshi needed him to be.

“I could stay the night....”

Isshi glanced down at the arms still tucked around him, then over to the alarm clock by his bed. Nearly midnight.

“As if I'd send you away at this time of night,” he said with a slight shake of his head. “Unless....”

“I'm here for anything senpai needs from me,” Ruki murmured and Isshi wasn't sure if the younger man had read something of his unspoken words or not. 

“Ruki-kun....”

“Anything senpai needs,” Ruki repeated, a hard note of resolve in his words. Isshi couldn't help a small smile at that, patting the arms around his waist before stepping free of them.

“Tea then?” he asked as he turned around. “And yes, you can stay the night.”

“Anything senpai needs,” the younger man repeated again, though this time there was a smile on those lips and a mischievous light in dark eyes. For one night perhaps he could forget everything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually a pretty severe departure from the original Isshi canon, but such is the life of an author? ww


	3. III. Satsuki (High Like Heaven)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A true friend is a precious gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long absence, had some other things I was doing up to now, but should be back to posting more regularly now.

All things considered, it was more than a little disturbing how easily he was caught off guard by the hands that suddenly covered his eyes. He wasn't sure if it said more about how tired he was these days or about his own feelings for the impish vocalist behind him. Not many could get close to him so easily, fewer still would even try. He was, after all, still the fearsome oni of PS Company, despite Ruki's attempts to counter the rumors he had seeded.

“Guess who~”

“Sakkun,” he said, a warning note in his voice that, sadly, wasn't likely to have any lasting effect; Satsuki knew better than to believe the rumors, at least in theory.

“Mou, so grumpy, Isshi-kun,” the other man said with an audible pout. “Are you so very angry with me for being so busy for so long?”

“Six months and if it wasn't for Twitter, I wouldn't know what had happened to you. You could have died for all I would have known,” he grumbled, stepping away from the other man. Or such had been his intention, at any rate. Yet even as he took another step away from his friend, Satsuki followed, sliding arms around his waist and pressing his cheek to Isshi's shoulder with a soft hum.

“You exaggerate, old friend. As always,” the younger man scolded softly. “Come have dinner with me?”

“A steak dinner isn't going to get you out of this, you realize,” he grumbled, though it was hard to stay properly annoyed with his friend when he was being so physical, something that tended to be a rarity between them. Particularly for being in public, even if it was just an otherwise empty studio hallway. And that made Isshi that much more curious to know what all had happened to his friend in the past few months.

“What if I include dessert, privacy, and a massage?” Satsuki asked, finally releasing him. “I'll order dinner to go and you can let me have it in all those scathing words you're dying to say in the privacy of my apartment?”

Perhaps too easily, his resistence crumbled. A heavy sigh and Isshi relented, turning around to face Satsuki properly. Another would have missed it, but Isshi could see the tiredness in his friend, the subtle signs of disquiet that meant the other man hadn't been taking proper care of himself. Again. Another sigh as he shook his head.

“You're at it again. Or should I say still? Really, Sakkun, what am I to do with you?”

“Have dinner with me, lecture me to your heart's content, then let me give you that massage?” his friend said, the cheeky grin not enough to cover the strain lurking beneath it. Isshi rolled his eyes, then turned the other man towards the door, keeping his hands on his shoulders as he started marching him down the hall. Yes, there would definitely be lecturing, for all that he didn't expect it to do any long-term good. Satsuki was a perfectionist, he always had been and always would be. No amount of scolding was going to make him any less prone to the self-abuse that seemed to be a persistent side-effect of such ruthless perfectionism, if his history with other such perfectionists was any indicator. Which wouldn't stop Isshi from saying the words ... or doing whatever other things he could to help his friend rest and relax properly for a change. _Someone_ had to look after Satsuki, after all. He was only too glad the other man even let him. Well, some of the time, anyway.

“Really, you don't have to do this, I'm not a child,” Satsuki mock protested as they exited the studio building.”I promise not to run away from my own suggestion, Daddy.”

“Oi, watch it,” Isshi muttered, swatting his friend's shoulder. The other man glanced back before he could completely cover his flinch at Satsuki's flippant words. Something else the two of them were going to end up discussing, he could feel it in his friend's eyes. The blond squeezed his hand before slipping his grip and pulling out his phone.

“Steak dinner you said, right? I even have the perfect wine, you'll love it,” Satsuki said, grinning boyishly. Isshi wasn't entirely sure he believed that, but he was willing to play along, nudging his friend in the right direction to get him to his car. A glass of wine with dinner might make the conversation a little easier to bear if Satsuki really did intend to ask what Isshi expected.

“I still say one steak dinner isn't enough to get you out of the dog house, Sakkun,” he scolded, though he couldn't keep from smiling.

“Of course not,” the blond replied with a light laugh of his own. “I'll make it up to you, all those months of neglect, you have my word, Isshi-kun.”

“You'd better!” he said, feigning an annoyed tone. Perhaps he would pretend to hang on to his disgruntlement a bit longer if it meant multiple steak dinners at his friend's expense. 

~*~*~

Fingers slowly carded through wet strands, working out knots and ensuring the conditioner spread from roots to tips in a somewhat familiar routine, even though it was rare for Satsuki to do this for anyone that wasn't himself. Then again, Isshi wasn't just anyone. And helping his friend relax completely was the least he could do after putting him through so much worry, even if that hadn't been intentional on his part. Or perhaps he should say _especially_ since it hadn't been his intention to worry his dear friend. Time had simply ... gotten away from him. Between the ending of Rentrer en Soi and the beginnings of his own solo career, there had just been so much to be done, had been for so many months now, that it had been a little too easy to lose track of things. Like being a good and proper friend. But he was resolved to correct that imbalance, and tonight was a good start at repairing the damage to his friendship with Isshi caused by his own neglect.

“If you're trying to put me to sleep, Sakkun...,” Isshi mumbled softly.

“I dare you to sit there and tell me you didn't need this,” he countered, lightly tugging a strand of blond hair. The huff that came out of his friend at those words sounded more than a little disgruntled, but all things considered it wasn't much of a protest. Much as he had expected, truth be told.

“Would it be so terrible, to stay the night here?” he asked a bit later. There was a long pause at those words and for a moment Satsuki wasn't certain that his friend wasn't going to decline to answer at all.

“No,” Isshi said at last with a soft sigh. “But it's not really that simple, is it.”

“As simple as a dear friend staying the night? It could be, you know,” he replied. Another huff. Satsuki bit back a smile, sliding fingers through Isshi's hair again.

“Stay the night,” he said, making the words into a proper invitation this time. “I won't even make you sleep on the couch.”

A snort this time, though this one sounded more like an admission of defeat. Satsuki smiled and started rinsing out Isshi's hair. His friend could be so stubborn sometimes. Fortunately for them both, he could be just as stubborn when the need arose. It really was the only way to deal with Isshi sometimes. As much as his fellow vocalist would play the stubborn card on him, claiming it to be for his own good, well, turn about was fair play. A night in his bed would be good for Isshi, Satsuki would see to that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone was wondering, no, Satsuki and Isshi did not sleep together.


	4. IV. Amonn (Gone Like Yesterday)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some wounds won't just heal.

“Tadaima.”

Of course there was no response, but some habits were harder to break than others. Particularly old ones, long ingrained. A sigh as Isshi slipped out of his shoes, Gucci and Pinky watching him patiently, expectantly. They went through the usual evening routine and he was on to debating his dinner options before the white cat Amonn had finally settled on calling Tsuya appeared, helping herself to his lap. He stroked white fur and for a moment he was in two time periods at once....

~*~*~

_“Shichi, time to wake up~” Amonn purred, nuzzling into his neck. As if Isshi really had much choice with the weight of the other man on top of him, though he could hardly be said to be complaining. Mello had been on the road for months, it was only natural that Amonn should have missed him. Just as he had missed his precious peach. He slid one hand into the back of Amonn's shirt even as he pulled the younger man down into a hungry kiss. A beat and then Amonn was melting into him with a low whine, lips parting in open invitation. One Isshi wasn't about to refuse, taking advantage of the distraction to roll them over. When he pulled back, Amonn was gazing up at him with lust-filled eyes, slowly licking his lips._

_“What did you do, drive through the night?” he asked, trailing fingers along an exposed collarbone._

_“Missed you,” Amonn mumbled, a blush appearing on his cheeks. Isshi smiled, pressing another kiss to his lips._

_“I missed you, too, Momo.”_

~*~*~

That had been the last time Amonn had rushed back home to him. Nothing about that morning, or indeed any of the three months that had followed had suggested anything amiss. He had gone over that last six months every which way, searching for the signs that he had missed, but he still couldn't find them. Everything had been fine, as far as he had been able to tell. Even that last morning before going out on tour had been the same as ever, filled with lingering kisses and a whispered promise to call him every night that they were apart.

And then one night, after a show in Nagasaki, the nightly call hadn't come. He had told himself not to worry about it ... but then one missed night became three missed nights, became repeated voicemails that weren't returned, became a growing silence. And then he had returned home to find the house empty of all traces of his pet. Or rather, all but one: the two cats, Tsuya and Pucchi. Granted, the two cats had originally been gifted to Isshi, but Tsuya in particular had been Amonn's special baby. And utterly inconsolable, pining for her human for weeks, months afterwards. She was still prone to hiding herself away for days at a time, though he could usually coax her out with a bit of fresh tuna or mackerel if he became worried enough about her.

“He's not coming back, Tsuya-hime,” he murmured, running a hand along her spine. “Neither of them are. I don't know why, I don't know why Sacchi did things this way, but ... it is what it is.”

The white cat murred a noise of discontent and jumped down from his lap. 

“I agree, hime. It's not fair.”

Not fair at all, but what could he do? Every attempt at contact had failed. It was time to take the hint and let them go.

Of course, that was easier said than done. Another huff and he forced himself to at least make tea. Isshi wasn't sure he had the appetite for anything more than that anymore anyway.


	5. V. Tora (Heavy with Mood)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If he could make a deal to swap their places he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> glossary of terms included at the end of the fic

The saya made a hollow thunking sound as Tora tapped the wooden veranda with it, dragging Isshi's attention back to himself. Meaning his host had been lost in thought, probably hadn't seen more than the first few minutes of his demonstration just now. Not that he had really been doing the kata for his mentor's benefit so much as for his own peace of mind, but still.

“Come over to show off and you ignore me. Really, Sensei, I'm hurt,” he said, trying with limited success to fight back the amusement he was feeling. Hardly his true purpose, though it would have been nice if his senpai had been paying him at least a little more attention.

“May I?” Isshi asked, gesturing to the sheathed sword. A nod and Tora handed over his treasure, a gift from Shou. He doubted his best friend had realized what the sword was when he had bought it, only able to see the sword as a sword. And no doubt thinking the tiger in the tsuba had been too perfect, symbolically, to resist. Not that Shou had been wrong, but it amused him a great deal to know that his friend had no idea just how matched the sword was to Tora himself. He watched with careful eyes the way Isshi held the sheathed sword, his fingers running along the lines of the wooden saya. They stopped at the mon imprint and Tora felt his breath catch.

“This ... this is a genuine artifact!” Isshi said suddenly, surprised eyes flicking up to Tora.

“You don't know what a relief it is to hear you say that,” Tora said with a nod, finally moving to sit down beside his senpai, mentor, and friend. “I thought maybe I was losing my mind.”

“How on earth...?”

“Don't really know,” Tora admitted with a shrug. “It was a gift from Shou-kun, so all he'll say is that he saw it while he was out shopping and knew he had to get it for me.”

Tora watched the way Isshi nodded, watched as he turned the saya around once more in his hands, then pushed against the tsuba with his thumb just enough to prime the sword, to check its fit perhaps. A slight nod and then he locked the sword back into place and handed it back to Tora.

“The saya is new - your doing or his?”

“Mine. He said he'd thought about it, but then been afraid of being ripped off or something,” Tora explained, caressing the darkly lacquered wood. “The kojiri and kougai are from the previous koshirae, the tsuka is mostly as it was, though I went ahead and redid the wrapping. Yes, with silk. And of course new seppa and habaki. There's a shirasaya, too, but I've been drawing it enough that I haven't felt it necessary to store it like that.”

Isshi nodded, though Tora caught the slight frown that flickered across his mentor's face.

“Just be careful, ne? Your bandmates will never forgive you if you do something stupid, like cut off your own fingers,” the older man said, his eyes betraying the teasing of his words.

“For the record, this isn't my first sword,” Tora mock grumbled, sipping his tea.

“Even so, a sword like that ... it has a will of its own. Be careful.”

“A will and a voice,” he agreed with a nod. “I may have cultivated a public persona of recklessness, but that doesn't make it the truth. I paid attention to your lessons, Sensei.”

Isshi nodded and not for the first time Tora wondered what his senpai saw when he looked at him. Especially when he got that thoughtful look on his face like he had just then.

“Is that why you came then? To get my professional opinion on the sword?”

“Among other things,” he confessed, taking another sip of his tea. “Any help you can offer, Sensei, I will gladly accept.”

“Very well,” Isshi said, standing and stepping down from the house. Tora hesitated, not sure what was holding him back, then sighed and stood as well. This was what he had wanted, after all, it was too late for regret and second-guessing.

~*~*~

Tora spun the kougai in his fingers, watching as Isshi made them fresh tea. He didn't have enough hair for the pin to be of any use at the moment, but turning it gave his fingers something to do. A trick he'd learned to help him focus when his thoughts wanted to fire off in a hundred directions at once. By focusing first on just one thing, he could bring the chaos back into order. Of course that could be troublesome, too; if he had just left his thoughts to wander, he might not have noticed how ... old his former master looked.

“Issama, sit, let me do that,” he said, huffing a sigh as he slipped the hair pin back into its pocket.

“You are my guest, Shinji-kun, not my servant,” Isshi said, faintly scolding. “Besides, there's nothing more to do.”

With teapot and a plate of cookies on the table, he couldn't very well argue with that. Biting back a sigh, he helped himself to a cookie and watched his host. There it was again, that sense of tiredness that was more than just not getting enough sleep.

“Sensei, whatever it is, I'm here to help.”

“Shinji-kun, I don't know what you're talking about,” the older man said with a dismissive gesture. Right, of course not, all in his head. As if he was going to believe that so easily.

“How long has it been?” he asked softly, murmuring his thanks as he took his cup. He watched the way Isshi froze for a moment, then huffed a low note of disgruntlement. He was treading dangerous ground and he knew it, but if his mentor wasn't going to volunteer the information....

“Twelve months, two weeks, three days, and some miscellaneous number of hours and minutes. Not that I'm counting them, Shinji.”

“I may not be the best at tracking, but... And now that I've got this,” he said, lightly tapping the koshirae.

“Don't you dare,” Isshi snapped, a surprising fire in those dark eyes as they caught his. “Stay out of it, Shinji. I mean it.”

“You deserve an explanation, Sensei,” he murmured stubbornly, though he still lowered his head. “Even if it ends up being a steaming pile of shit.” He had been there himself, relationships ending for the most bullshit of reasons, but at least he had always been _given_ the reasons. Isshi had nothing but silence and an empty house. It wouldn't even be that hard to track down Amonn and Sato, _make_ them tell him what was going on with them, why they had behaved so selfishly. It wasn't like they weren't still in the scene and he had gotten to be pretty well connected in the Tokyo visual scene in his own right at this point.

“What is done is done.”

Anger snapped through him like fire and he slammed his tea cup down on the table as he got up. And made it no further as the sound of chipping porcelain hit his ears. Slowly he turned back around to the table, watching the crawl of tea leaking from the cracked cup. For as quiet as Isshi's sigh was, it could have been an explosion.

“You,” his mentor said softly, a towel appearing to sop up the spilt tea, “need to learn better control of your anger. Have you forgotten so much since I released you?”

He wasn't sure if the words were meant as such, but he still felt the sting of rebuke. A shuffle of feet and he fell to his knees beside the other man's chair, his head bowed in contrition. So many long years since then and yet the strength of his feelings, his conviction was no less.

“Senpai, whatever else happens, no matter that I have a pet of my own now, you will always be my Master.”

The words hung in the air between them unsupported for a moment and then Isshi's hand came to rest lightly on his crown. A sensation not unlike sweet relief melted through him at the reaffirmation of their connection.

“Thank you, Shinji,” Isshi said softly, fingers pushing through his hair in gentle pettings. “And truly, I do appreciate your desire to help, but this is something best left alone. They made their choices, just as Reno-kun made his.”

“... I could kick _his_ ass, too, you know,” Tora replied as he sat back on his heels, though he was pretty sure he already knew what Isshi's response would be to that suggestion.

“Not a hair on his idiotic head, Shinji,” Isshi warned, shaking his head again. “He isn't worth the consequences you would face.”

“As you wish, Master,” Tora murmured, bowing once more. Precisely the reaction he had expected, which was why he hadn't simply gone ahead and beaten Reno bloody the first time Isshi had thrown him out. Or the second time, either, despite his firm belief that Reno deserved a thorough thrashing for cheating on Isshi. 

“Stop worrying so much,” Isshi scolded a beat later. “I'll be fine.”

“This house wasn't made for being so empty,” Tora countered, getting up and taking his seat at the table once more. “Are you sure you do–.”

“I'm old, not helpless,” his senpai said, a brief scowl appearing. “This isn't the first time I've lived on my own, it won't be my last, I'm quite certain. Go home, Shinji, worry about someone else for a change.”

“Are you –?”

“Go _home_ ,” he scolded again, though at least this time he was smiling. It was, Tora supposed, good enough. For now, it would have to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> koshirae: ornate sword mounting (includes lacquered saya and sword)  
> saya: wooden scabbard  
> shirasaya: unlaquered saya intended for long-term sword storage  
> kougai: matched hairpin kept in a pocket on the saya  
> tsuba: hand guard  
> kojiri: saya butt cap  
> seppa: washers to fit the tsuba in place  
> habaki: metal fitting at the saya mouth to lock the sword in place  
> mon: family crest


End file.
